


Can I Try Again, Try Again, Try Again?

by Persepinecone



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, he/they jon rights, in that same vein jon is nb, it has nothing to do with the story but i need you to know, jonmartin, martin is also trans, martin is an autistic/adhd icon, mechs!jon, no beta we die like men, theres two characters in the beginning that i made up because i love them, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persepinecone/pseuds/Persepinecone
Summary: Martin attends a Mechanisms concert, somehow without realizing that Jonny D'Ville is played by his boss, Jonathon Sims. After the concert, Martin gets to see Jon when he's not being a Professional Boss. He quite enjoys the sight.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 30
Kudos: 109





	Can I Try Again, Try Again, Try Again?

**Author's Note:**

> Notes about this fic: 1) i have never been to a mechs concert, although ive seen a couple recorded ones. 2) i havent listened to the mechs in a couple months. 3) ive only been listening to tma as the eps come out, so other than the most recent release, i havent heard a proper tma ep in weeks. 4) i cannot write, and im going to make that everyone else’s problem >:)
> 
> Genuinely though, I wrote this all in one go at like one in the morning. It's certainly not my best work but its.... here! I'm going to be trying to write more and upload it, and this is part of me working on that. Hope you enjoy!

Martin hovered somewhat nervously towards the back of the room, trying to discern where the best seat would be. They weren’t assigned, so he could pick anywhere, but he was facing a kind of decision paralysis. Sitting towards the front would be nice, as he would be close to the performers and perhaps feel more involved in the concert, but what if the speakers were too loud and they hurt his ears? Sitting in the back would give him an easy escape if he needed it and he would feel less suffocated by the crowd, but he would be pretty far from the stage and he might feel like an outsider.

Getting fed up with his own worrying, he took a sharp breath and finally chose a seat only a few rows back from the front. Close enough to the stage to see well, but not _too_ close. He sat a chair away from two people chatting, and they both waved to him as he got settled in. One person was quite thin with a warm brown complexion, wearing a black tank-top and fingerless fishnet gloves that went up to their elbows. Their nails were painted black, and their shoulder-length hair was also black, with teal ends. Martin noticed that they were wearing a badge reading “she/her”. The person next to her was darker, sporting a deep chestnut skin tone, and they were significantly chubbier. They wore a fashionably torn long sleeve shirt, which, under its rips, Martin could see more fishnet material peeking out. Fastened to their shirt was a badge that read “they/them”. Their hair was shaved on the sides, and the top was dyed a bright green. The person in the tank-top spoke as Martin sat down.

“Hey there! I’m Hannah, and I have to say that I adore your sweater. It looks so comfy!” Hannah held out her hand to shake, and Martin took it happily.

“Oh, thank you! It’s quite nice to meet you, Hannah- I’m Martin. I’d be remiss if I didn’t say how much I admire your style as well, although I don’t think I could pull off fishnets in any capacity.” Martin chuckled at the thought. 

“Oh, come now, you’d suit them just fine! Look at me, I’m the spitting image of ‘cool’. Fishnets are for everyone!” the person with the green hair piped up, gesturing dramatically to themself.

“I must concede....” Martin motioned for them to supply their name.

“Rowan,” they answered with a tilt of their chin.

“Well, I must concede Rowan, you do look _very_ cool.”

“Why thank you!” Soft music played as they conversed, waiting for the concert to start.

“When did you start listening to The Mechs?” Hannah asked.

“Quite recently, actually! A friend recommended them to me, and I haven’t been able to stop listening since! I’m happy to have seen that they were playing around here- I don’t go to many concerts these days,” Martin replied, surprised at how easily he was slipping into conversation with these two. 

“That’s wonderful! We’ve both been listening for a couple years now, and we try not to miss a show. They’re always a blast!” Rowan said, and before Martin could continue the conversation, scuffling sounds from the stage drew his attention away from his new acquaintances. People who Martin could only assume were The Mechanisms were moving about onstage, setting up and getting into position. After a moment, as they all seemed settled into their places, a voice Martin recognized as Jonny D’Ville rang through the microphone.

“How is everybody?” he asked, a mischievous lilt to his words. The crowd replied excitedly, and they fell into a casual rhythm with the spokesman. As Martin watched the performance, there was something familiar about this- no, about Jonny- that he couldn’t quite place. He chocked it up to having listened to the music so much and having probably seen him around the venue, and tried to enjoy the concert.

A few songs later, and that familiar feeling was still tugging at the back of Martin’s skull. It took him two more songs and a dry remark from Jonny D’Ville to place it. His first thought was that Jonny D’Ville reminded him of his boss, Jon. Then, after a moment of reality washing over him, he realized there might be quite a large reason for that, considering he was now almost certain that that was his boss up there. His face took on a pleasantly bewildered expression- what else are you supposed to do when you find out your grumpy boss is in a steampunk space pirate band that you listen to? Then he started laughing, thankful for the volume of the performance and the crowd swallowing the sound.

He was still enjoying the music, of course, but now his mind was running wild with this newfound information. Mostly, he was happy. Not in the way that Tim might be happy to have new blackmail material, or in the way that Sasha might be happy to have yet another thing to tease Jon with, but happy because Jon looked like he was having _so much fun_. Gone was the grouchy sourpuss who read dusty statements in his office all day and then declined every offer for after-work drinks like he was allergic to every bar in town. Here was a man who was goofy, loud, and having the time of his life playing a character he clearly loved. Martin tried to keep his head down, knowing that Jon would probably _not_ react very well to seeing his coworker in the crowd, and continued on having an absolute blast.

After the show ended, Martin traded contact information with Hannah and Rowan, and then excused himself to go off and find Jon. It wasn’t going to be too hard, he reckoned, as the band members were floating about the crowd now, meeting people and pointing them towards the merch booth and whatnot. It didn’t take him long to find him, talking to another Mechanism near the edge of the crowd. He almost ran right up to him, but he stopped himself. What was he even going to say? _Hey there boss, I just saw your super weird but also super cool space pirate persona perform a concert_? Absolutely not. He didn’t have much time to think of something better, though, because soon enough he heard Jon’s voice calling out to him.

“ _Martin?_ Martin, what are you doing here?” As much as Martin was worried Jon would be angry or embarrassed, his expression was more cheerfully confused than anything else. It almost reminded him of how he felt upon realizing it was Jon up there in the first place.

“Oh, hello… Jon.” Martin nervously stammered out. “I-I didn’t know you were in The Mechanisms!”

Jon chuckled a bit at that. “I didn’t know you _listened_ to The Mechanisms.”

“Touche. Look, I promise I won’t tell the others, this was an honest mistake. I can leave if you want me to…” Martin began babbling on, but Jon shushed him before he could say much else.

“Ehh, don’t worry about it. Why don’t we head over to the pub across the street. We can have a talk about this, if you’d like?” Jon said, motioning in that direction. Martin was absolutely baffled. Jon? Asking to go out for drinks? Maybe Martin was wrong all along- perhaps this is a completely different Jonathon Sims.

They ended up at the pub anyway, and Jon was excitedly telling Martin anything he could possibly want to know about The Mechanisms. His work persona was nowhere to be found, and Martin was positively delighted. Jon said he’d prefer it if Martin didn’t mention this to the other archive staff, but there was really nothing he could do to stop it. After promising not to tell, Martin had asked some questions about The Mechanisms- how they got started, how long they’ve been together, etc.- and he could’ve sworn Jon’s eyes literally lit up. He launched into every answer about the band with the same enthusiasm of a child talking about all their gifts on Christmas morning. It was a beautiful sight.

It had been nearly an hour, and Jon continued to be positively radiant, and Martin couldn’t keep a grin off of his face. He did not, however, realize just how loose his tongue had become until he asked something he never intended to speak aloud.

“Jon, can I kiss you?” Martin’s eyes widened as he finished his question, and Jon simply seemed to pause, almost as if he needed to reboot for a moment. Martin immediately jumped into apologies, cursing himself for being so stupid.

“Jon, I am so sorry, I did _not_ mean to say that or make you uncomfortable and- and- and I would never have said that in the first place if it wasn’t so late and, you know, I should probably get going seeing as that’s how late it is and-”

“Wait! No, stay! You can,” Jon jumped into the conversation, the possibility of Martin leaving drawing him back to reality.

“... What?”

“Kiss me, that is.”

“Oh. OH! Oh, um. Are you- are you sure?”

“Yes, Martin. I’m sure,” Jon said, a small smile spreading across his face.

“I mean are you _really_ sure? Because I was just apologizing a lot and I would never want to guilt you into anyth-” he was cut off by Jon rolling his eyes and leaning forward to press their lips together. It was sweet, albeit short.

“Yes, Martin. I’m very sure,” Jon whispered, their noses no more than an inch apart. They kissed again, for a bit longer this time. Martin tasted sweet, like honey. Jon quite liked that. They broke apart once more, and made quick work of their drinks. They held hands as they walked out the door, and Jon offered for Martin to spend the night at his flat- the living room couch folded out into a bed, and it was closer to the pub than Martin’s.

“Alright. Who are you and what have you done with Jonathon Sims?” Martin said, a teasing smile dancing on his lips.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m always this forward and not at all dower,” Jon replied playfully, swinging their hands between them.

Martin did end up sleeping on Jon’s living room couch, and Jon woke up the next morning to the best cup of tea he’d ever had in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to hit me up on my tumblr @persepintree :D


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